Sokka's manly diary of manliness
by CageVenom
Summary: Sokka decides to start keeping a diary in order to regain control over his lately troubled thoughts. Just in time, because his life is about to go up in flames to a degree. Sokka/Zuko. Contains lemon, discretion advised.


Disclaimer: I listened to a lot of linkin park while writing this. I don't own Avatar.

"It's so wrong. So very totally wrong. It couldn't be wrong… -er? Semantics aside, this is definitely the wrong way to start this." Sokka desperately wrote into a small blue notebook. Shame clung to him, slowly growing on his back.

Was Sokka a man who'd start a diary? No. Most certainly not. So why was he doing it? He couldn't possibly be doing it. He was sure it was not the thing to do. Nevertheless, life had been throwing curveballs at Sokka left and right lately, and even he himself felt like he wasn't flying as straight ahead as he used to. This wasn't just a simple criticism of Appa's trajectory, or Aang's piloting capabilities. He felt confused and disoriented. The flow of his thought was troubled. Sokka needed a place to collect his thoughts and analyze them. Because, boy was he in trouble if even his own mind wasn't in his hands. Writing them down seemed like a good idea.

Sokka wasn't a great literate, that much he was willing to admit to himself. Worry that he mightn't be able to do his internal conflict justice clouded his mind. He had secretly tried his hand at poetry and felt rather confident about it, but this was something else entirely. Besides, diaries were, at least in his view, for girls. At the very least he'd need another name for it, like A Warrior's Thoughts or The Manly Adventure Journal.

He decided to put his prowess at naming things to work right after he was done writing down his immediate thoughts. He shakily put pen to paper "But I hatehatehatelove him."

Reading the words he had just written sent hot waves of embarrassment to his face. What was he thinking? His head nearly turned three hundred and sixty degrees to check for anyone who might be watching. Sokka sat completely still, eyes darting up and down, from the offensive words on the piece of paper, to the surrounding area to check for intruders.

The distressed young man tried to calm himself by exhaling slowly, but to no avail. He re-read the sentence. If you could call it that. The disordered, almost windy style, complemented the mess of emotions described. Roughly. Still, in his opinion, it got the general message across, but he still felt it was missing a lot of things. The boomerang guy decided it'd come to him eventually, and closed his definitely-not-a-diary with mixed emotions.

He started up the slippery slope of reminiscing. Their first encounter was under rather peculiar circumstances. Much to his own dismay, Sokka wasn't the one to open the conversation. Instead, it was Zuko who broke the ice. Literally. The huge metal boat bearing fire nation insignia slammed into the wall around Sokka's village. Everything stood still for a second, then the front of the ship fell open.

The crew disembarked from the opened nose of the ship. Five or so soldiers marched from the metal hull, only one of them without the infamous fire nation's white mask lodged in his helmet. The shadow retreated from Zuko's scarred face, exposing it to the frosty blue light of the south pole. Sokka immediately became uneasy at the sight.

The water tribesman felt the warpaint on his face. It dulled the sharp claws of the cold air. He felt his entire body trembling with mixed fear and rage. Memories came flooding back. Recollections of his mother's death were leading tears to his eyes. The sight of the red uniforms made him grit his teeth. In a moment, the energy within him exploded and he charged the pony-tailed prince.

The guards had no time to react to the sudden attack. Sokka's feet flew through the snow, his whole body readying a powerful swing with his machete. He was only one hefty stride away from his red-clad foe when he got a good look at his face. From behind the angsty pout and the furrowed brows leaked a kind and gentle visage. It didn't take a master investigator to tell that the thin coat of determination painted on Zuko's face was nothing but a farce. An attempt at hiding his true, caring and fragile person. Much like how the war paint on Sokka's face wasn't superb at hiding his confusion.

This sharply clashed with Sokka's image of the fire nation. He saw them as a mix of mindless brutes and heartless serpents. Sokka was sure any prince of the fire nation would spend his days burning ants, bathing in the blood of innocents and practicing maniacal laughter. He could never have imagined the son of the warmongering firelord as a somewhat angsty teenager with an attitude. How could Sokka unleash his murderous intent on such a confused and soft-hearted, yet angry boy.

Some of the magic of the moment was gone when, only two kicks from the "gentle" boy later, Sokka was unceremoniously sunken into snow, head-first, while his legs helplessly waved in the air. Zuko started interrogating the other tribesmen.

Sokka found attacking him from the back and not having to deal with his face was easier. Or at least it seemed easier. The momentum of his charge was used against him, resulting in a swift reunion between his behind and the snow on the ground. He barely got out of the way of a small fire burst Zuko had shot out for good measure. Sokka's hand jerked instinctively and quickly threw his boomerang. His dodge landed him in front of the kids.

"Show no fear!" said one of them, thrusting a spear into his hands. Sokka, feeling the whirlpool of emotions stir up inside of him once more, charged the helmeted prince again. Zuko blocked it effortlessly, taking the weapon from him and hitting Sokka in the face with it repeatedly before snapping it in half. Water tribe's last defender was yet again forced to take a seat in the snow.

"Cold." Sokka thought in that moment, though he wasn't really sure where to direct the word. Sweet revenge came not a moment later when his boomerang returned and slammed into the back of Zuko's head, making a satisfying 'clang'. Losing his temper, the fire nation prince's face contorted in anger. Sokka remembered staring at the frustrated young man for a split-second before Zuko was swept off his feet by Aang, who came flying in just in the nick of time.

Though the strong emotion blurred his recollection of that day, Sokka knew that inside of him, everything did change when the fire nation attacked.

Sokka cleared his head of nostalgic thoughts and snapped back to reality. He was supposed to be gathering tinderwood, but got distracted by his train of thought.

Sokka was standing in the middle of a small meadow in the woods. It was about fifty steps across and almost round. There was a very large tree stump in the center, propped above the ground by its mighty roots.

The sun sternly reminded him of how long he'd been daydreaming. It sat lazily on the horizon, flattening slightly at the bottom. It was already a pinkish hue of orange. Sokka remembered that it wouldn't be nice to spend the night with no fire to warm him. Not to mention how thrilled his friends would be.

Katara had finished putting up the tent when Sokka returned to camp. "I thought you were all fired up to get the wood?" she couldn't help but sarcastically poke. Her eyes quickly pointed at the setting sun to emphasize her point. Sokka couldn't find a witty reply, so he got started on the fire. Aang was busy grooming Appa while Toph had already erected a stone shelter for herself to sleep in. Dinner was rather unusually hearty - the group had been to a market recently. They were planning to camp out in the same spot for a while, giving Aang time to study Earthbending and Waterbending. Sokka decided to make it a fishing trip for himself.

After the meal everyone tucked themselves in and went to sleep.

The moon was already high in the sky, but was mostly obscured by the clouds. The four friends were fast asleep. A thin line of smoke was all that rose from the firepit, the wet branches had put the flames to sleep. A mysterious dark figure stood amidst the resting bunch. It crouched down, its hand reaching out towards the dead fire. A gentle flame was kindled in the heart of the remaining branches, shining warm, orange light onto Zuko's face. He was so nervous he could feel his heart beating in his ears. Zuko's eyes rapidly circled the four sleeping figures, making sure none of them awoke. He found his target.

Katara stirred in her sleep, causing the invader to stand up and quiver. Zuko took a moment to stay completely still, not even daring to breathe. He waited until the coast was clear. Then, he swiftly made his way over to Sokka's sleeping bag and ducked down beside it. A second later, he was gone, and so was the flame.

A rolled bit of paper tied up with a thin string was resting next to Sokka's head. It might be a bit surprising to find out that it wasn't his sense of sight that first noticed it, but rather his sense of smell. The small roll wedged itself into Sokka's nose on a particularly heavy snore. He awoke immediately, flipping out of his bag and yelping in shock and pain.

By some miracle, none of the others seemed to wake up. Sokka, making sure that everyone was indeed still asleep, dislodged the paper from his nostril and unrolled it. "The meadow. Tonight. Come alone." it said in rather aesthetic, yet urgent calligraphy. The writing seemed to suggest that it was written on an angry whim. Sokka wasn't sure whether it was a love letter or a challenge to a duel, but he decided to go anyway. He was bringing his machete, though.

Sokka waited impatiently for the whole day. He was frustrated with the sun moving so slowly. With the fish not biting. With his friends talking. Everything irritated him to no end as he eagerly awaited dusk.

"Hey Katara, so what did you do today?" asked Aang kindly as they sat around the fire in the evening. Sokka's eyes flashed murder at him and the airbender piped down. "This new form- "

"Oh you know, a little bit of splashing about, the usual, blah blah, can we go to sleep now?" Sokka cut in, interrupting Katara and extinguishing the conversation. "Somebody didn't catch a trophy." Toph expressed her dissatisfaction with his behaviour. "Well excuse me for trying to feed us while you two play catch the pebble!" Sokka countered.

"Catch the pebble!" said Toph, hanging a giant boulder inches above his head. Sokka stood down. Then he stood up, walked over to his sleeping bag, and grumpily went to bed. The three remaining friends also decided to bid good night to each other and disband for the night.

Sokka counted to one thousand in his head. At first it was hard to stay awake. He was tired after a day of being grouchy. Then, as the excitement and fear built up inside of him slowly, he became more and more restless again. Soon enough, he was like a wound up spring inside of his sleeping bag, ready to jump out and make a mad dash for the clearing.

Barely controlling himself, Sokka slowly got out of his sleeping bag. It felt like it took ages to noiselessly get out of it. He thought he heard someone stir a couple of times, causing him to hold his breath and wait for a few seconds before continuing. When he finally freed himself from the bag, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. Sokka grabbed his weapon and took a quiet step towards the forest. Then another. And another. Then, on the eight step, his foot bumped into something.

It was none other than the ever-present twig of bad sneaking. "This one's a sneakin'!" it exclaimed in an accusatory tone. Sokka swore that he'd open a paper factory one day. He instantly turned around to check on the others. Aang's eyes met his with a sleepy confusion. "Sokka?" he asked. "Where are you going?"

Sokka put on his best casual face. It wasn't very casual. "Taking a leak?" he squealed at the airbender. Aang blinked slowly, drowsiness still heavy on his face. "What worries me is that you're taking your knife." he answered. Sokka looked at his hand, only to find the huge machete there. He stared at it as if he was seeing it for the first time in his life.

"Oh this… little thing? Nah, I just need it in case anything… Bites. Y'know. Don't want no…" he trailed off. "Going out alone at night…" Aang's drowsiness slowly drained away. Sokka felt desperately helpless. "It's dangerous Sokka. You know there's Platypus bears, and other wild animals out there! Wait a minute. Were you about to go hunting?"

Aang was about to start a small lecture about killing innocent animals for food. Sokka was thrilled that he misunderstood. "Mhm! I was going to go out and catch us some deer for some delicious venison steak!" This was it for poor Aang, who now went about explaining why Sokka was wrong. Times like these Sokka was reminded where the Avatar was raised. Aang talked with the calm tone of a monk, but still managed to show his energy and passion for the subject. Sokka noticed himself thinking that Aang was quite charismatic.

After a brief elaboration, Sokka feigned defeat and went back to his sleeping bag. He begrudgingly laid back down and smothered his excitement, only hoping he would get another chance.

Sokka was massively cranky the following day. The sun seemed to move slower, the fish seemed to bite less and, to his horror, his friends' talk quadrupled compared to the previous day. "The evening must have given up and rescheduled for some other time," he thought grimly.

Sokka was sitting in front of the campfire, his bloodshot eyes mercilessly staring into the flames. "Wh-" started Aang, but before he could speak Sokka was glaring daggers at him. Then he turned to Katara, who would surely ask "What is wrong with you?" otherwise. Aang looked Katara as if asking "What now?" but she just shrugged in response. Everyone ate in silence and then went to bed immediately after the sunset.

This time, Sokka barely made it to five hundred when he was ready to go. With stealth that ninjas would find enviable, he climbed out of his bag and left the camp. Sokka ran off to the forest, in search of the meadow. The forest was dark and the visibility was awful. Sokka stumbled and tripped his way through the trees, trying his best to stifle yells of pain.

It took him a lot longer to find the meadow than he'd expected. The clearing wasn't particularly far from camp, but he got lost a couple of times and his advance was awfully slow in the darkness. Every single vine, fern and bit of undergrowth seemed to conspire against his feet.

The grass opening in the grove was illuminated by the moonlight, the giant old stump glistening with droplets that had gathered on it since nightfall. Sokka stopped dead to admire the scenery. The silver blades of grass looked like frilled snow in the silver shine, reminding him of home. Sokka slowly walked to the center of the grass patch and stood there for a few minutes, breathing in the cold night air and waiting for something to happen.

Then, he heard something plodding through the forest. Sokka ducked down in fear, expecting a large animal... Like a Platypus bear or something. Sweat beads broke out on his forehead. Then he heard a yelp. More noise. Then, out of the treeline across the meadow stumbled none other than…

"Zuko?" asked Sokka, not quite as puzzled as he'd like himself to be. He didn't know why, but the fact that it was the fire prince somehow didn't surprise him. Sokka had a hunch it was him.

"Sokka," answered the firebender, trying to adjust his newly torn clothes. Sokka took up a territorial stance with his arms crossed in front of him. Zuko disregarded it and marched right up to the water tribesman. Their eyes never broke contact the whole way. They wanted to drill out the weakness in one another.

Zuko's arms went straight for Sokka's neck - they wrapped themselves around it and pulled him close. Sokka, entirely unsure of what he was doing, set his own around the firebender's waist. He was flabbergasted on the inside, but refused to let it show at all. Their kiss was fierce and unrelenting. Sokka held back contempt and rose above Zuko somewhat. Sokka's kissing was condescending and somewhat dominating, challenging the prince to try him. Zuko, on the other hand, had more of an anger outbreak. Through his body language he screamed of the unfairness that he had experienced. A caustic tantrum about the world, which he wanted to take out on Sokka.

Sokka guided him over to the stump and forced him to sit down. Zuko sat with his legs apart and the palms of his hands supporting him at the back. Sokka was bending over down to bring his face to Zuko's, the only bending he'd be doing. He was cupping the cheek of the scarred side of Zuko's face with his right hand while leaning on his knee with the left.

After some more tongue sparring, Sokka broke away. A silver string of saliva stretched from one's mouth to another's, like a spider's thread. Then, the standing boy started undoing his pants. Zuko's eyes became as wide as saucers and his mouth hung slightly agape in shock. Regaining his composure, he grit his teeth and silently snarled.

"Shape your mouth like a donut." ordered Sokka. Zuko's frown deepened. "Please." he added poisonously. Zuko's mouth slowly drew opened. Sokka thrust himself in, causing a few waves of emotion cross the prince's face. First shock widened his eyes again. Then, he looked up in anger, and finally, his eyes looked straight ahead and the spiteful stare softened slightly. Slightly.

Sokka maintained his disinterested, condescending expression. Then, Zuko's head jerked towards him, making Sokka look down with some contempt. Zuko began moving his head back and forth, causing Sokka's face to eventually soften, then his eyes to close. The corners of the receiving boy's mouth rose, from pointing downwards into a neutral position. The firebender intentionally brought his teeth together slightly to try and irritate Sokka. But all he got was a smirk and a hand to the back of his head, bringing him in.

It reached deep into Zuko's throat, making him shut his eyes tight to stop the tears. Sokka pulled out and Zuko coughed slightly. "Catching a cold in those clothes? That won't do…" mused Sokka in a monotone, tugging Zuko's collar to the side. "A firebender with a cold." Sokka snorted at his own joke and in one swift motion tore the top off the prince's clothes.

He climbed onto the stump behind Zuko. Sokka found attacking him from the back and not having to deal with his face was easier. He trailed kisses from Zuko's shoulder to his neck. Then, he sunk his teeth in, like a wolf killing its prey. Zuko hissed in mixed pain and pleasure. A hand was reaching around him, going down from his chest and past his belly, further south.

"I hate your guts." said Sokka and grabbed Zuko between the legs.

AN: How far will they go? What happens next? Will Sokka become El James? Stay tuned. Or don't. I'm sorry.


End file.
